


You're Celine Dion?

by AnAngryRat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 08:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10433850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAngryRat/pseuds/AnAngryRat
Summary: Lance get's his soul mark on his eighteenth birthday. Who the fuck is Celine Dion?





	

**Author's Note:**

> There's a strong language barrier. If Lance sounds too, off? Tell me. I tried to base him off of my friends parents and how they speak English. (Side note: I didn't edit this) ANYWAY. Enjoy.

On Lances eighteenth birthday the words _You’re Celine Dion,_ write themselves in perfect English script across his clavicle. The letters are so perfect Lance is certain that his soulmate must be a teacher. He frowns at it. Who the fuck is Celine Dion?

His sister walks in on him looking at the mark and begins to laugh hysterically.

“ _Ohdiosmio,_ ” She cries wiping her face. “ _Papa, mama, Rosalita, Armando, Lia, Lily!_ _Tienes que ver esto!_ ”

Then she’s sliding onto the floor as Lance watches in horror as his entire family cram themselves into the tiny, tiny restroom. In a matter of seconds as the family collective reads the mark did they break down into hysterical laughter, leaving only Armando, and Lia asking, “ _Quien es Celine Dion?_ ”

 _“¿Yo se, verdad?_ ” Lance asks a bit hysterical. His eldest sister Ariana pulled herself up from the floor breathing deeply.

“ _Tienes que ver el Titanic_.” She says sagely a comforting hand on his shoulder.

 

Three hours later Lance is sobbing into a bowl of popcorn.

“ _La puta! La puta…”_ He hiccupps. “ _Había suficiente espacio! Leo merecía algo mejor que esto.”_

His sister pets his head comfortingly,as the credits begin to roll she pauses it on the song list. To his horror he sees that Celine Dion is the singer of the horrid song at the beginning.

He pulled out his phone to look her up and the absolute confusion set in. Lance was a tall lean Cuban boy, he looked nothing like this _gringa_ bitch.

“ _Que…”_

 

Lance spends the next month and a half after returning to the states for college singing to _My Heart Will Go On_ at the top of his lungs in his shitty car. He feels it’s fitting for the soulmark.

 

Shiro gets _Imma what?_ written in barely legible hand writing on the wrist of his right hand when he’s eighteen. He takes a picture and sends it to Keith and Pidge. Matt sees it in the morning and finds it cute. Then he promptly forgets that he has a soulmate at all, lost in the life of the military.

 

When Shiro loses his arm and is sent back to the states he loses track of his life. Everything feels useless and stupid. He doesn’t even have his soul mark anymore. It’s gone forever. He thinks about getting it tattooed onto his left wrist…but why. It’s rare that he’ll even find them anyway. Shiro gives up.

 

Three months into his hermithood, Keith breaks down the door, Pidge at his side.

“Get the fuck up, we built you an arm.” He shouts pointing at Shiro’s dull form on the couch.

“What?”

Pidge pulls a mechanical arm from behind their back. “It was part of my group project. It’s fully functional and I’m going to painfully attach it to your lazy ass.”

Shiro pushes himself up. “Why?”

Pidge looks away avoiding eye contact. “You’re my brother and deserve to be living better than this. Hopefully the arm will help you move on.”

Shiro squints. “You and Keith got married? Aren’t you like thirteen?”

Keith and Pidge share a look. “Not yet. But you’re still like my brother.”

“Not yet.”

Keith rolls his eyes and picks Shiro up off the couch. “Com’on let’s go reattach your arm.”

Shiro finds himself relieved at being lead and having something to do, so he relaxes into Keith’s grip and just says “Okay.”

 

Things pick up from there. His old military buddies Thace and Ulaz open a coffee shop after they got honorably discharged from the military for being each other’s soulmates. They ask him if he wants part of their shares and in on the shop and he says yes. He worked at a small coffee shop back in high school before joining the military and enjoyed it, he figures the same would apply there.

It doesn’t take long before Shiro falls in love with his job. The quick banter between his colleagues and the confidence of being able to work multiple stations at once is soothing. Things aren’t so bad.

 

It’s one of his worst panic attacks. The absolute worst. It happens while driving because driving is terrifying and what the fuck else are you supposed to do but panic. His chest is seizing up and the muscles in his legs and thighs are tightening to the point he thinks he might cramp and it’s hard to focus. The car in front of him, a shitty little june buggy with a sticker of the Canadian flag on the back, hits a pothole, rear bumper scraping the asphalt and making sparks fly. Shiro’s hands tense and he fears that he might break the steering wheel. He changes lanes and is relieved he hits a stop light so he can attempt to breathe to calm himself to make it home and rode the rest of this shit out in the parking garage of his complex.

He idly looks over at the VW bug and begins laughing. It’s shaky and sounds more like a goose honking than an actual laugh but his shoulders slowly sag and his legs relax and he doesn’t feel like he’s about to die anymore. The guy in the car next to him is a frat boy from San Diego state, Shiro’s sure, he’s got the backwards snapback and loose tank top that all of them wear and he’s singing and dancing to _My Heart Will Go On_ like it’s a fucking Drake song. Shiro’s still laughing when the light turns green and the car behind him honks. He goes and wipes his eyes and until he can no longer see it, he breaks down in laughter whenever he sees the bug in his sight. The kid still dancing like it’s the hardest rap song to ever hit the air and Celine moaning about heartbreak over his shitty speakers.

Shiro thinks he might be in love.

 

Shiro is making a matcha milkshake wrinkling his nose at the sight of the green frost covering the blender. It’s a busy day so he’s working only drinks while Thace works the cash register scaring off the weaker of their customers. Shiro keeps trying to convince him to stop looking like Wolverine. He thinks Ulaz is the one that encourages him to keep the fucking awful hairstyle. Shiro pours the milkshake into a cup and tops it off with whip cream.

He starts to hand it over to the customer waiting impatiently at the counter and freezes. Blue eyes stare into his own brown. Brown skin and a backwards snapback. Shiro all but gasps.

“You’re Celine Dion.”

“Imma what?”

 

“Yourea singingdog,” the cute barista mutters. Or at least that’s what he thinks he says. Lance blinks at him.

“Imma what?”

The barista flinches and drops the drink two inches onto the counter. Lance takes it and wraps his lips around the straw and slurps.

“Uh…um…” the barista says blushing bright red. Then his eyes widen and he blushes brighter. Lance likes the way it reaches his ears and dips below his shirt. “I’m sooooooo sorry. Oh, god. That was so much worse than when I thought it was gonna be ‘Yer a wizard Harry.”

Lance laughs, and thinks it might just be his bad English but the barista is making no sense. “I like that meme.”

The barista hides behind his hands and laughs. “Me too.”

Lance looks around and there are three people behind him waiting for their order and glaring at them. “Sorry, Singing-Dog-Man— “

“Wait, you thought I said singing do—”

Lance shrugs awkwardly not understanding what he said because his words rushed together. “I have to go. Late for class.”

Lance turns and walks away quickly.

 

“No! Wait! I said Celine…” Shiro hand drops from where he uselessly reaches out for him. “Dion.”

“What the fuck are you doing, Shirogane?” Ulaz snarls taking over the drink station because there was a sizeable build up during his and his _fucking soulmate’s_ conversation.

“My soulmate just walked right out that door,” Shiro said pushing his bangs away from his face.

“Holy shit! Did you tell him he was a wizard,” Thace asks. An elderly lady scoffs, Thace rolls his eyes.

“It’s so much worse than that.” Shiro mumbles taking off his apron to go to the back of the café. He places his head in his hands and tries to breathe. He possibly just lost his soulmate. Maybe it was his soulmate. He just had to find out if the poor kid had “You’re Celine Dion.” Written somewhere on his body. Shiro looks at his metal arm and turns it around. No soul mark there. Even if Shiro says he’s his soulmate the kid won’t believe him considering that he lost his own mark. He’s such a fucking mess.

“Hey,” Thace says after who knows how long. He has a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I see that kid a lot. Barely speaks English. He’s apparently a genius at astrophysics. Talks a lot despite not knowing too many words. You’ll meet him again.”

Shiro pulls his legs up under his chin. “He’s probably not even my soulmate.”

Thace sits down next to him and pulls him into a side hug. “Don’t say that. If you’re gut instinct says he is then he is. Scientific fact.”

Shiro laughs rolling his eyes. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Hey!”

“Even if he was my soulmate he probably hates me.”

“Why do you say that?”

Shiro covers his face. “The first thing I said to him was “You’re Celine Dion.” He heard “You’re a singing dog.””

Thace’s entire body shakes. Shiro grits his teeth and nods in agreement. It is hilariously humiliating.

“Fuck. Give me a minute. I have to go tell Ulaz.”

Shiro puts his head in his hands.

“ _Holy shit! Ula, you’ve got to hear this!_ ” Thace calls across the café.

 

Next time the kid walks into the café he’s standing next to a large man with a kind friendly face. They are speaking to each other in rapid fire Spanish. Shiro is practically bouncing on his toes.

“Hi.” He sighs when they walk up to the counter. The boys eyes light up.

“Singing-Dog-Man,” he says and Shiro can now hear the thick Hispanic accent flowing over his words.

“It’s Shiro.”

The boy looks up brightly at his friend. “His name is Churro!”

“She-row.” Shiro says again.

The boy rolls his eyes. “I know. I just like Churro better. Right, Hunk?”

“Ohmygod, Lance.” Hunk says pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, for him. He’s new here.”

Shiro’s fairly certain he’s smiling maniacally. “It’s alright. What can I get for you today?”

Lance bounces on his toes happily. “Green smoothie!”

“Two matcha milkshakes,” Hunk says over him and pulling out his wallet. Lance frowns.

“I’ve got it.” He also pulls out his wallet. Hunk places a large hand on his face and shoves him away handing Shiro the money. Shiro briefly wonders if they’re dating as he hands them back change.

“How’s your day going?” He asks starting on the milkshakes.

“Eh,” Lance says. “Getting better. Started off shitty.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Hunk cuts in.

“Small and mean was extra small and mean, today.”

“They’re just messing with you. They’ll be nicer next time.”

Lance sniffs at the suggestion. “How was your day, Churro?”

“Shiro,” he corrects. “It’s going really great actually. Met my soulmate the other day and got to see him again.”

Hunk congratulates him and Lance nods along happily. Shiro hands them their shakes. Hunk thanks him and Lance drinks with a giddy smile on his face. They walk out and Shiro realizes he never mentioned that he could be Lance’s soulmate.

“Shit.”

 

“Shame.” Lance sighs. Hunk raises a questioning brow. “Pretty barista has soulmate. No room for a hot Latin Lover, no?”

Hunk pats him on the back. “Don’t worry buddy, I’m sure your heart will always go on.”

Lance punches him in the stomach. “ _Pendejo._ ”

 

 

Shiro looks at Lance who’s making grabby hands for the milkshake over the counter.

“Give me the goods, Churro.”

“Shiro.” It’s automatic at this point. Lance has come in so many times and they’ve continued to have the strangest conversations. One day Lance runs in and shows him a Spongebob clip laughing hysterically and says he never got the joke. Turns out some jokes that work in English can’t translate to Spanish. “So…” Shiro says drawing out the word.

“Chuuuuuuuuro,” Lance begs.

“You got a soul mark.”

Lance sniffs straightening. “ _Si_.”

“What does it say?”

Lance flushes bright red. “ _Esta stupido. Dame el maldito milkshake._ ”

“No.” Shiro says holding it farther away. He can barely understand Spanish but he got the gist of that.

Lance sighs. “It’s…” his brows scrunch. “Uh… mean? No. _Embarazada_? Embarrassment?” He looks to Shiro asking if he gets it.

“Embarrassing.” Shiro says nodding his head. Shiro wonders how he should tell him. What’s he going to say? Should he do it now?

“It says _You’re Celine Dion_ doesn’t it?” Shiro blurts.

 

“Itsaysyouareasingingdog, oznit?”

“Singing dog?” Lance’s says frowning. “What does that have to do with…fuckit give me milkshake!” Lance makes grabby hands again. Shiro’s blushing.

“No. I said your soul mark saysyourasingingdog?”

Lance huffs annoyed. “Shiro, you know my English is not very good. Don’t speak so fast. Just give me milkshake!” Lance glares at it wondering if he could bring it to him with his mind.

“Ohmygod,” Shiro grumbles and Lance would be concerned with how his head might pop from being so red but the man is holding the only thing that gives him happiness in this strange new land. America is weird and foreign and Lance is unused to the Large bustle of the city and the crowded trolleys. He misses home and the white sandy beaches and the only thing that makes him forget all that is Shiro’s pretty face and his perfect milkshakes. Lance can’t devour Shiro’s dick like he wants to, but he can down that milkshake and repress his feelings like a normal fucking person.

“Lance,” Shiro says over enunciating. Lance clenches his fists and glares standing straight and waiting. “I know your soul mark says “You’re Celine Dion.””

“Who told you? Was it Pidge? _La puta!_ I told her not to—” Shiro’s hands are over his mouth and Lance has to stop himself from biting off his fingers.

“I know because I said it to you the first day we met.” Shiro says slowly.

 

Shiro holds his breath removing his hands from Lance’s mouth.

Lance frowns. “No. You said singing—Celine Dion! Oh! Oh! Oh!”

A smile breaks across his face and his eyes are watering. Shiro can’t help to smile back.

“You’re Celine Dion.” He says choking on breath. Shiro nods. Lance touches his clavicle.

“It’s right here. Close my heart.” He says. “You show yours and we kiss like the movies?”

Shiro’s smile falls and he feels a hollowness in his chest. “I can’t.”

Lance looks at him with sympathy. “Is it the hand?”

“Yeah,” Shiro whispers.  
Lance cups his face and pulls him into a kiss anyway.

“Is okay, we get it tattooed on back. Like tramp stamp. You’ll be my tramp.”

Shiro smiles a little sadly. “You sure? I’m not…I’m not complete.”

Lance chuckles and chastely kisses his lips again. “Silly, Churro, neither am I. I am just dumb teenage Cuban. We can work to be complete together. That’s how soulmates work.”

Shiro laughs and pulls away. “The counter was digging into my stomach.” He explains when Lance pouts.

Lance glares at him. “Good. Give me milkshake.”

“Of course.”

Shiro leans on the counter and falls even more in love with the blissed out expression that always consumes his face while he drinks the green monstrosity.

“I think I’m in love,” he mutters.

“You’re not a muffin, you’re a churro.” Lance responds. Shiro lays his head down on his arms and groans. He has got to work on his Spanish.

**Author's Note:**

> Spanish:  
> Oh my God!  
> You've got to see this!  
> Who's Celine Dion?  
> I know right?  
> That bitch, There was enough room, Leo deserved better  
> slang for white (Might be Mexico only)  
> Asshole  
> It is stupid. Give me the goddamn milkshake.  
> Embarazada sounds like embarrassment but actually means pregnant


End file.
